Not just another tranny blog

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I am transsexual, and it has taken me years to accept that. That is what I meant when I wrote in my first post here that I have pupated.

Lots of us male to female TSs try to make men of ourselves. We go into the Army or police. One I met had joined a criminal gang. I joined the territorial army for two weekends. I stopped reading Jane Austen and started on Clausewitz and The Good Soldier Schweik, but then they found me “insufficiently military”, which I found hurtful at the time and now find a huge compliment. In the 70s, a friend of mine had aversion therapy, stuff to make you vomit and electric shocks. I thought of this as suppressing my feminine side, locking it in a chest, locked in a cupboard, locked in an attic, locked in a house, locked away in a place where I never went.

It was liberating to see it differently, not as locking my feminine side away but as self-protecting, until I felt ready to come out. And when I did come out, I was surrounded by love and acceptance. Not from everyone, and not all the time, but the greatest proportion by far of the reactions I got were accepting. It took me a long time to accept my femininity. I have accepted it at last.

I was so afraid. I was afraid to go into the supermarket, so I went in repeating my mantra, “These are ordinary decent people minding their own business”. I was afraid, and I still did it, and now I am proud of my courage. I assigned far greater importance to the occasional objection, a few insults in the street, than to acceptance by almost all the people I met whetherAt the Tate they knew me or not, and now I am learning to give the rejection its appropriate weight, and no more. Anyone may do his process with me if he likes- just don’t expect it to stick to me.

Then I started going into work expressing myself female, and never presented male again. The world changed from monochrome to colour. I went with friends to a public garden, expecting to be bored, and was entranced by its beauty.

One reason for writing this is that I want you to know about my condition. When people talk about a “sex change”, tell them that a M-F has always been female, that certain parts of their brains are sex-differentiated in the female way (F-Ms are male), and that the proper term is genital correction therapy.

Wikipedia has a good article. I think the brain differences comprehensively refute the idea that my condition is a perversion, even if they are not well enough known to establish causes. And if it is a perversion, so what? I get to do my sex thing all the time. How cool is that?

Hundreds of people have got here by searching for “Tranny blog“. Welcome. You may be looking for photographs: there are some gorgeous tranny photographs on the page snap snap grin grin. While you are here, have a look at some of my posts about what transsexuality is like from the inside. I also write about pictures I like, and about the difficulties of being human. The page Introducing Clare says something of what I am about.

If you got here by searching for “Tranny blog”, I would be very grateful if you would leave a comment saying what you were looking for. “Tranny” is a slur, used by hate-filled bigots among others, and most of the pages you find with that search are of porn photos. The reason for keeping the title of the post is to engage with people who use that word. I want to show you that I am a human being, deserving respect.
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7 thoughts on “Not just another tranny blog

  1. Clare, you are the person who’s life experience , so far, most closely resembles my own, although my “flight to masculinity” lasted much longer . Of course we have only touched on the course of our transsexualism so our experiences could diverge later in our story. Like you I carried my burden for far too long until it was almost unbearable, when I felt I had been ‘allowed to put it down’. Oddly enough having thrown off one burden I have taken up another , that of the stigma associated with being ‘different’. Thank goodness most people are more enlightened nowadays..

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  2. Two points on the stigma of being different. First, people think about you a lot less than you might think they do. Second, there is a great deal of acceptance around. Notice any rejection, but do not give it any more than its proper weight.

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  3. I am not one to languor in self pity. I try not to dwell on negatives but concentrate on the happier and more positive aspects of my own epiphany. However I have had to endure derision, intimidation and physical assault. Nevertheless, I am thankfully aware that I am fortunate enough to have some wonderful caring friends. At last, I am a well adjusted woman and I have a life which is concomitant with my self perception. I could never go back to life before corrective surgery.

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